The Unwitting Host
Zane observed Lyudmila with the detached curiosity of a being from a world where the concepts of beauty and jealousy did not exist. To him, the physical changes a human female underwent during the gestation period were merely a source of fascination. He noted the swelling of the abdomen, an expansion of space that his species valued above all. It was like watching a planet's surface swell in preparation for new life, yet fraught with social and emotional complexities he couldn't quite grasp.
Humans, he learned, often attached a great deal of self-worth to their physical appearance. It was bewildering to Zane that a species could be at the mercy of such superficial concerns. He couldn't comprehend the complex human emotions of envy or self-consciousness, only recognizing that Lyudmila's dissatisfaction with her body provided him with an opportunity—a vessel that would not mind being filled further.
When Zane infiltrated Lyudmila's body, his presence exacerbated her hunger. He needed sustenance to grow, and he fed off her, increasing her appetite. Her body ballooned far beyond the natural effects of pregnancy, and Zane was dispassionately aware that her human form was reaching its limits. Zane didn't perceive his actions as inherently malicious; it was survival for him, as natural as breathing is to humans.
The day came when Lyudmila could not withstand the pressure of Zane's ever-expanding form within her. She burst suddenly, leaving the remnants of what was once a vibrant life scattered in a way that was alien and incomprehensible to the humans who found her.
Lyudmila's husband was overcome with grief. To him, the grotesque scene before his eyes was the tragic end of the woman he had built a life with, the mother of his children, and the loss of the child she carried. His world, once filled with the laughter of his family, was now pierced with the sharp edges of despair. His cries were primal, a sound that tore at the hearts of all who heard him. He couldn't fathom the why or how—it was unfathomable that a life so full could end so abruptly and horrifically.
Zane, now separating himself from the remains of his host, felt a twinge of what could be considered regret in his alien consciousness. Not so much for the loss of Lyudmila's life, as his understanding of individual human existence was limited, but for the disturbance he had caused in the natural order of this world—a world he was still trying to survive in without causing undue destruction.
He did not feel particular sorrow for Lyudmila herself; she had been a means to an end, a necessary host. Zane operated on a level of logic and survival, and while he could mimic human form and observe their emotions, he could not truly feel them. He asked for forgiveness, not out of empathy, but because he understood that it was a custom when one had caused harm to another in human society.
With the stillness of the aftermath around him, Zane left, seeking another way to exist on this strange planet—a way that, perhaps, would not require such a devastating toll on its inhabitants. His journey continued, a silent specter drifting through a world that was not his own, searching for a place where he could belong without leaving sorrow in his wake.